


wordless

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Hate Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13204788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: His arms wrapped around Arme’s shoulders on instinct — he’d discovered his body does a lot on instinct — and nails dug into the fabric of Arme’s tailcoat. He made for quite the image, corrupted body clinging to this snow-white representation of purity.“I hate you,” he finally ground out, thoughtlessly.





	wordless

There were words on the tip of his tongue, almost spilling over already, but before they could, the tongue lolled out and, with it, every chance of saying anything. Apostasia’s eyes slipped closed with barely a small sigh, head tilting back against the pillow propping it up.

Arme felt so overwhelming and overbearing, just like he did every single time they’ve done this. Apostasia’s back ran with a shiver and he unwillingly let out another noise, turning his head to the side in an attempt to muffle himself.

“No,” Arme said almost immediately, a gloved hand placing itself onto Apostasia’s throat. It didn’t turn his head back, didn’t need to. “I want you to scream.”

‘I can’t,’ Apostasia would reply, were he able to. But as he felt the cloak of godly presence fasten around his throat, lights seemed to dim further and further, and it never once loosened.

He choked out, energy seeped from his being, and only then did Arme let go. Not fully, but enough for Apostasia to gasp in some of the most-needed air. Arme wouldn’t kill him like this, wouldn’t even be able to — Apostasia’s celestial form would take over to save him, and Arme knew as much.

No, this wasn’t even about the choking. This was another of their battles, another chance for Arme to boast of his Goddess’ power and use it against him. And it’s not like he didn’t fight back, but sometimes it was easier to lay back and allow himself to shut down and to just  _feel_.

Arme was so warm inside of him, the polar opposite of his hand pressing onto his windpipe, clad in his pure-white glove still. Despite being laid bare, Apostasia still felt warm.

He found himself craving more, body feverish and moving on its own, hips jerking in time with Arme’s oddly regular pace. Almost like a robot were pounding into him, so punctual and monotonal. But maybe that’s why Apostasia liked it so much.

He wants to open his mouth again, say something— anything. ‘It feels good,’ or maybe ‘Speed up,’ or even ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ He was still tongue-tied, Arme’s weight bearing down on his throat once again.

His vision swam before he just closed his eyes altogether. He might not have been able to form words, but moans slipped out of him without him even trying. Arme liked those, he knew, just another sign of his weakness.

He didn’t see it as a weakness, though. Once he stopped thinking about this whole thing and just let himself get swept up in this too-human thing with this too-inhumane partner, nothing mattered anymore. Not his loud voice, not his celestiality, not Arme’s grudge against him.

His arms wrapped around Arme’s shoulders on instinct — he’d discovered his body does a lot on instinct — and nails dug into the fabric of Arme’s tailcoat. He made for quite the image, corrupted body clinging to this snow-white representation of purity.

“I hate you,” he finally ground out, thoughtlessly. His eyes blinked over staring up at the ceiling that just wouldn’t keep still for the life of him, unlatching himself without letting go.

“The feeling is… gh, quite mutual,” Arme hissed back, voice strained.

‘He’s close,’ Apostasia mused and, sure enough, after a few more thrusts Arme choked down on him again, so strong Apostasia wonders whether or not his trachea would survive, and came within him, seed rushing forth into Apostasia’s body.

Apostasia allowed himself a tiny smile as he was allowed to breathe in again. He’d won this part of the fight. On that note, his whole body sunk into the bed as Arme pulled himself out, and Apostasia came like that, adding dark stains to the fluorescent ones leaking out of him and clinging to Arme’s softening cock.

He wanted to speak up again, ‘I won after all,’ but didn’t. He opted for staying quiet and basking in the afterglow for as long as his body — and Arme — would allow him. Words were quite useless in these situations, weren’t they?

No fight with Arme could be settled with them, and this wasn’t an exception.


End file.
